


Safety Lessons

by katikat



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 06:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14396031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katikat/pseuds/katikat
Summary: A what-if set in ep 221. What if it came down to a car chase between Jack and the fleeing bank robbers, with Mac behind the wheel of the escape vehicle? Jack’s POV. (Unbeta'd)





	Safety Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Written for geminidaydreamer over on Tumblr.

“There they are!” Riley exclaims, pointing at the car in front of them.

“Yeah, got them,” Jack replies, stepping on the gas.

The street is full of debris and rubble, fallen poles and broken vehicles, even boats, but Jack hasn’t been trained in precision driving for nothing. And he’ll get these bastards. He won’t let them get away, not when they have Mac with them.  _No way._

The bank robbers must’ve finally spotted them because they picked up speed but Jack refuses to allow them to shake him off. He swerves around a partially toppled wall and then it’s just a matter of adding a little more gas and he’s side by side with them - Carlos’ truck might be old and rusted but not even the best of cars can beat experience and Jack has  _a lot_ of experience pursuing bad people - and as he looks to the right, past Riley, ready to clip the other car–

It’s Mac behind the wheel, driving the bank robbers’ escape vehicle. But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is the gun the bearded guy in the passenger seat has pressed against the side of Mac’s head and Jack doesn’t need to hear what the guy’s yelling at Mac as both cars race down the street, he can deduce it from the furious expression on the guy’s face:  _lose them or you lose your life._

Reflexively, Jack pulls slightly away, to the side, just to be absolutely sure that he does  _not_ clip the other car because he must assume the safety’s off on the guy’s gun and one twitch of his finger on the trigger, caused even by something as mundane as a pothole, let alone two vehicles crashing together at high speed, and Mac gets his head blown off. Hitting the car’s out of the question. But if he doesn’t stop them,  _somehow_ , Mac’s chances are–

The back window on the passenger side of Carlos’ truck explodes as the bank robbers start shooting, the men in the two rows of back seats - their leader, the bearded guy, still has the muzzle of his gun pressed against Mac’s head - and Bozer yelps, curling up in the back. Riley ducks, too, as more bullets pepper their car, and Jack can’t shoot back, not with Mac in there.

And so he does the only thing he can: He slams on the breaks and lets the bank robbers’ car pass them to buy himself time to think and come up with some plan, with some way to stop them without putting Mac in danger and–

The escape vehicle shoots forward - Mac must’ve really  _stomped_ on the gas pedal - but then it suddenly swerves sharply to the left and for a moment, Jack doesn’t understand why. A second later he sees it, though, the tree lying across the street, right in their way.

“Shit,” he manages to whisper, now really hitting the breaks, so hard that the tires screech on the broken road. They come to a stop - the other car doesn’t.

At the speed the bank robbers’ car is going, it doesn’t stop in time. Which was probably the plan, Jack guesses. As it swerves hard, it skids across the pavement and slams against the tree, the passenger side first. But it doesn’t end there. The car flips over, flying high up into the air, twisting once and almost twice, but by then its momentum is spent, the heavier back end drops and the car smashes down, onto its roof, spinning and sliding down the street several more feet with the loud, discordant sound of metal tearing and twisting, before it comes to a halt in a cloud of smoke, rocking gently.

“Oh my God,” Riley whispers in shock, both hands on the dashboard where she braced herself when Jack hit the breaks.

“Mac…” Bozer adds softly, leaning forward between the front seat, eyes wide.

And then Jack’s out of the car, letting it rumble softly in place, and he’s running down the street with his gun out and pointed at the other vehicle; it’s silent now, the crash killed the engine, and nothing’s moving inside.

“Riley, call for help, now!” he shouts over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off his target, not daring to, very aware of the heavily armed men inside. “And stay with the car, you two. Don’t come any closer till I tell you!”

When Jack climbs over the fallen tree, the first thing he sees is the blood. The car’s turned with its passenger side towards him and all the windows on that side are broken and all the bodies, lying crumpled in one heap on the roof that’s now the floor, are completely still and dripping with blood. At least one of the men’s neck is broken.

Jack wants to race to Mac, the kid’s the only thing in that car that he cares about, but he swallows down his impatience and works his way around the car slowly. If he gets ambushed, he won’t be able to help Mac, he reminds himself sternly.

The bearded guy, the one who was threatening Mac with his gun, flew halfway through the smashed windshield. His face’s a bloody mess and his sightless, dead eyes are staring straight ahead. Jack doesn’t feel an ounce of pity for the man, just the opposite. Even in his death the bank robber’s proving to be a nuisance because his body’s blocking Jack’s view of Mac.

And then Jack’s on the other side of the vehicle, on the driver’s side, and he’s crouching down - a quick, cursory glance tells him that the other fugitives are all either dead or unconscious - bending down a little to look inside and his heart’s hammering so hard he feels a little lightheaded.

 _Mac_ … The kid’s still strapped in his seat, hanging upside down in his seatbelt; it seems he was the only one wearing it - and Jack could cry in relief that Mac actually listened to the lessons Jack’s been drilling into him for years: to always, always,  _always_ wear a seatbelt when there’s even the slightest chance of a high speed chase happening. Because thanks to that the idiot fool’s alive,  _he’s alive_!

“Hey, hey,  _hey_ ,” Jack chides gently, and quickly returning his gun back into its holster, he reaches inside the car because Mac’s shifting and moaning, tensing up, and his breathing, loud and wheezing, is quickening in panic. “None of that. Don’t move, okay? Just don’t!”

Mac’s bleeding from a deep cut on his jaw and there’s a welt on his forehead, burned around the edges - Jack suspects it’s a bullet wound but he prefers not to ruminate on that any more, not right now, Jesus Christ! - and his hands are lying limply on the car’s roof, palms up and covered with glass pellets.

“Jack…?” he croaks out, blinking his eyes open slowly.

“Yeah, it’s me, it’s me, buddy,” Jack assures him in a kind, soothing voice, pressing his fingers lightly to the side of the kid’s throat to check his pulse. “And you’ll be okay. You’ll be alright, just don’t move. Don’t move…”

With a sigh, Mac goes limp, tension draining out of him. He trusts Jack, he trusts him with his life, and for once he does as he’s told, and as he closes his eyes again, he whispers, “Man… Matty will be so pissed.”

And Jack sits down hard, laughing even harder, because of course she will be,  _of course_. God, there’s no way they will make the flight to Pakistan, no way, not with Mac looking all bruised and bloody, with who-knows-what broken and barely conscious, but Jack really doesn’t care right now.

Because only moments ago, he was sure that the kid was dead. Anything,  _any_ alternative - even a dressing down from Matty the Hun - is better than that. And when she starts yelling, her voice, loud as a foghorn, making his ears ring even over the phone, he tells her so. She can’t really argue with that.


End file.
